Due to his role in their new dragon overlord’s administration, the locals had wisely ‘gifted’ Victor a large mansion overseeing the rest of Murmurin. Finally, the human’s life as a homeless adventurer had reached its end, at least until they claimed Furibon’s dungeon tomorrow.

And what a place it was! With three floors, a basement, and a roof, it was huge enough to welcome a lord’s entire retinue. Unlike the early medieval architecture of Gardemagne's manors, the place had been built in a later time's style, with wide rooms, black wood flooring, and a central velvet stair leading to the upper floors.

Victor had heard it once belonged to a dark wizard doing experiments in the basement though, and considering the dust around, the inhabitants hadn’t touched it in years. He better watch his back inside.

Victor entered the grand foyer with Savoureuse and twenty mindless, demonic skeletons in toes. “Go clean the place,” he ordered his servants, “No dust must remain.”

The automatons spread around as ordered. “And now I officially live in a ghost mansion,” Victor told Savoureuse, as they moved to explore the ground floor while the earth trembled. “Do you think Vainqueur smashed a succubus this time?”

“I don’t think Chocolatine can summon on—” Savoureuse suddenly chuckled. “Ah, I get it, smash a succubus!”

“You can’t imagine how much I missed someone laughing at my lame jokes,” Victor said, finding a large cozy room with an old fireplace and armchairs. “We had good times.”

“It’s not quite the same since you left, Vic. We’re taking a wrong turn since that Lavere woman arrived.”

“Wrong turn? The Nightblades are an outlaw ring. That’s pretty redundant.”

“Yes, but we respected the government,” Savoureuse said, Victor giving her a blank stare. “Okay, sometimes we put nobles through death traps, but who doesn’t? We didn’t take up arms against the King, because it was bad for business. But last time I was at our headquarter in Noblecoeur, there were talks of supplying Ishfania and the Scorchers with weapons.”

Well, Vainqueur shot that plan down.

Victor sat in one of the armchairs, finding it extraordinarily comfortable. “[Channel Hellfire]!” His finger fired a ray of ghastly blue flames at the fireplace, lighting up the leftover black wood.

That was the only Monster Perk he got out of this grueling training, and he earned it. He should have listened to the priests’ warning of fire and brimstone in his childhood.

“Do you want an omelet?” Savoureuse asked him.

“Sure.” The proposal couldn’t make Victor happier since she had many levels in the Cook class. Other Nightblades had fought to the death over her meals.

The reptile sat on the ground like a chicken. “Do you want me to go to another room?” Victor asked, embarrassed.

“No, it’s okay. I do it everywhere.”

Victor turned his eyes away from the sight still, finding a treasure chest in a corner of the room, overflowing with gold.

Yeah, right. Just a chest.

“Treasure!” the disguised mimic barked. “Treasure!”

As if Victor would fall for it. “You know, most adventurers are wary of chests nowadays,” the Monster Squire told the creature. “You should take the shape of a magic weapon, like a shiny sword, and you mustn’t make a sound.”

The chest apparently understood, for it repeated, “Shiny sword? Treasure?”

“Trust me, no adventurer can’t resist the appeal of a big shiny sword, especially if set in a stone.”

“You can understand mimics?” Savoureuse asked him, rising up to reveal a large, ostrich-like egg under her clothes. “It is very difficult to make them behave.”

“I think there are frying pans in the kitchen, and yes I can,” said Victor, before shouting, “Minions! Minions!”

A skeleton immediately rushed inside the room. The M-word had never felt so pleasurable. “Go get us kitchen tools,” Victor ordered, the undead immediately obeying.

The squire took it back. Mindless undead slaves made his life way easier than before.

“Sword treasure!” By now, the chest had morphed into a huge, outrageous two-handed sword made of pure gold and jewels. “Sword treasure!”

“Better, but too much,” Victor told it, who suddenly wondered how the mimic could talk without a mouth, “Try having a black metal edge and an elegant pommel. Don’t overdo it.”

“Sword treasure.” The mimic followed his instructions, becoming the perfect picture of a magical sword.

“Excellent. Now you shouldn’t have trouble getting food. Just don’t kill anything in the village, alright?”

“Sword treasure!” The sword purred and hopped out of the room like an animal, just as the skeletal servant came back with four frying pans. “Sword Treasure.”

Victor now had a pet.

On a whim, he called it Vainqueur Junior.

Congratulations! Through your teaching, Vainqueur Junior has gained a level in [Fencer]!